Used
by Winter Ashby
Summary: [REPOST] Liz has the unique ability to help the Pod Squaders to see into their past lives. But her gift is only getting her USED and heartbroken. Who will she seek for comfurt? POLAR [Michael & Liz]


**Title:** Used  
**Author:** Winter Ashby _(rosweldrmr)_  
**Disclaimer:** Roswell © Jason Katims _(**If**... Roswell was mine. **Then**... Polar would be canon!)_**  
Rating: **K+**  
Summary: **Liz has the unique ability to help the Pod Squaders to see into their past lives. But her gift is only getting her USED and heartbroken. Who will she seek for comfurt? POLAR (Michael & Liz)  
**Timeline**: Post '_Tess Lies and Video Tape_' pre '_Four Square_'.  
**Authors Notes: **This used to be posted on my other account... but I'm doing a little autum cleaning and brought it over. This is the only Roswell fic that I think is worthy of being reposted. I don't know if I'll be doing any more Roswell fics, but maybe someday. Howver, this is a ONESHOT, I will **not **be updating or continuing this.**  
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Max and Tess kissed. But even more than that, he had gotten a flash. Everything Liz knew about her life, and what she had with Max was so strongly based on those damn flashes, that when he had confessed that another woman had incited them in him, Liz was torn apart by the earth shattering news. Maybe all they had, all the love and everything they shared together was nothing special. Maybe flashes were just how aliens and humans interacted. She honestly didn't know what was happening anymore. It seemed like all her passion and emotion was wrapped up in these flashes and all that meant nothing now. 

But Liz wasn't ready to accept it yet. She wasn't ready to let him go, and move on. Maria had come to her, Michael sent her she said. Somehow he knew that something had happened between her and Max. Part of her wished that he had some kind of sixth sense where he could just feel her pain. At least that way, she wouldn't be going through it alone. But in her heart she knew that after she'd seen Max kiss Tess, he would go straight to Michael. Maria sat with her on her roof, and held her while she cried, and told Liz to follow her heart.

Maria was there for her. She nodded and told her everything she wanted to hear, but that was the problem. She didn't need to follow her heart – that's what got her into this mess in the first place. Liz was slowly beginning to realize that maybe Maria wasn't the person she needed to be talking to. She needed answers now, not just a half-hearted pep-talk. She needed someone to be honest with her and tell her the things she needed to hear, not what she wanted. She didn't need a yes friend; she needed a stubborn, overbearing, outspoken, opinionated person: She needed Michael.

Michael knew the whole situation, and as far as she could tell, he was also not so thrilled with Max's recent behavior. He could offer insight into what she had to do, because from her current position, she was too close to it to make the right decision. But Michael was so far removed from her world and any investment at all in her happiness that he could offer a more objective perspective. As far as she could tell, he really didn't care if she got hurt or if she was happy – and that was exactly what she needed. He was certainly not her first choice, but what other option did she have? Michael had a habit of being cold and harsh not only to her, but all the humans. Liz just prayed that he wouldn't make it harder for her than coming to him already was.

They had just found the camera in his apartment, and the next day she was going to go over to Tess' house to plant it. But she was also using the guise of Max to get in. She figured, she would just show up at Michael's and start talking tactics with him. He had to appreciate the importance of having a clear and well defined plan of attack. Plus she was totally freaked out about the whole situation in the first place. What had she gotten herself into?

She gathered all the courage her tiny body could hold and boldly marched herself over to his apartment. With 3 firm knocks on his door, she made her presence known and stood, waiting. Her palms were sweating and she was shaking. Fearful of what he would think, of what he would say. She began to lose her nerve, after a minute, which seemed like an eternity, she turned and hurriedly began to leave. She only got half way down the hall when the light in his apartment came on. She looked at her watch, 2:36. He was probably sleeping. She thought about running, but the door came crashing open before she could get her legs moving.

Michael had been sleeping, and getting a knock at the door in the middle of the night was not the way he wanted to be woken up. But when the door slammed open and he saw the petite, frail, brunet frozen in fear, he regretted it.

"Liz?" a husky, sleepy voice murmured. She couldn't bring herself to turn to him, so instead she did nothing. She didn't move. Didn't turn, she might even have been holding her breath. And then the tears came; they started slowly, running at a pleasant pace down her cheeks.

"Did I wake you?" she asked in a small voice so riddled with pain, that he took a step forward. The compassion for this earthling moved him until he had no choice but to help her. But he was never close to Liz, so he restrained himself to merely exit the doorframe and lean hap hazardously against the wall.

It wasn't that he disliked her, that wasn't it at all. In fact, whenever he was around her, he had to be very careful of what he said and how he said it. She was his best friend's soul-mate, even if he was a dick and didn't deserve her; he would never do anything to hurt Max. He envied him for having the love of someone like her. He admired her loyalty to all of them. Even though since she'd learned their secret, it basically destroyed her life, he would still trust her with his life, again. And now she was standing in his hallway in the middle of the night, facing away from him and he had just answered the door like the first class ass that he was.

He crossed his arms, and let one leg rest lazily over the other as he stood; and began gently addressing her.

"No, I was just relaxing." He was lying. But at the same time he was reassuring. He stretched his neck to the left, trying to get some glimpse of her face, but she stood with her back to him, crying silently.

The tears poured down harder now that before. That is the first time he recognizes the heave in her shoulders and the quick swipe of her hand over her face. It registers slowly in him, she is crying. In his hall, in the middle of the night, a delicate woman is weeping; he can barely restrain himself now.

"What's wrong, Liz?" he inquires with desperation as the silence become too suffocating for him. But he already knows what the problem is, there is just nothing he can do for her now except offer to be there for her, and that doesn't seem like a very Michael thing to do. Had Maria gone to talk to her? He'd sent her up there, but Liz looked worse now than when he saw her earlier that day in the Crashdown.

She understands the pleading in his voice, but still cannot bring her self to face him. He might not be kind; he may be harsh or callous. Or even worse, he may tell her what she knows she needs to hear, but isn't ready to accept yet. She is plagued with doubt, but she has to respond. Courtesy will see to that.

"I just thought I might ask you something." He can hardly hear her, so he steps closer to her. He instinctively recognizes the beautiful fragrance of a woman. But she doesn't smell like exotic oils. Instead there is a hint of lavender and vanilla. "If you wouldn't mind." She continues softly.

He hears the crack in her voice as he can now imagine the tears spilling over and running down her face. He wants so badly to reach out to her, to tell her everything is going to be ok, but instead he holds back, for her sake. Or at least that what he tells himself. But he does step another foot closer. He can smell her distinctive desert blossoms shampoo he is so close.

"Of course." He spoke so softly and sincerely that Liz's shoulders released all the tension she had been holding before. His tender tone reassures her, comforts her. He always surprised her, even though she had known him long enough to expect the unexpected from him, his subtle and fleeting compassion always shocks her.

He can see that the hurt of his initial, rude greeting is beginning to wane, and she might be to a point where he can offer her solace or just a shoulder to cry on. He takes this as his chance to invite her in.

"You want to come in?" Liz stood contemplating the question, and slowly shakes her head no. Michael's heart breaks for her, but there is nothing he can do.

"No, I don't want to intrude." Only now does he understand: she isn't scared of someone or something. She is scared of him. She thinks of herself as a burden. Mentally he kicks himself for all the times he treated her bad in the past. This is too much for him to take at the present moment. Being so close to her, smelling her, hearing her soft crying noises, he can no longer hold back. And he doesn't want to.

He reaches out to her, and places his hand on her shoulder. She jumps slightly at the strong, warm hand. But immediately accepts it, as she relishes in the feeling of support. That is when she realizes why she really came to Michael. Why he was the one who she had wanted to go to. Not that she needed an objective person, but that she needed him. She needed to be comforted, to be held as only a man can do. She needed to feel safe, sheltered and protected. She was overcome with a wave of guilt, in her utter desolation; she had sought relief in another man, and to her surprise, found it in Michael.

Michael felt her cool skin under his hand as it rested lightly in her exposed shoulder. He felt an instant connection to her. There was an energy, and aura surrounding her that he couldn't explain. She drew out dormant memories in him. He not only knew what she was feeling and what coming to him meant to her, but he saw himself in another life. He releases her, not understanding what the images mean.

"That's _my_ power." She meekly whispers. As she too has seen the strange life that vaguely resembles Michael's. She recognizes the painful feeling of being used to gain clues into their alien ancestry.

"What?" He is stunned, not knowing what she means, or what any of it means.

"That's the only thing I am good for." Michael's heart breaks for her. He is beginning to catch up. She saw the pictures too, she thinks the only thing she can do is show aliens what they are missing. Let them access information deep in themselves that not even they knew existed.

"No." He won't let himself believe that he is here to use her to find out the information he needs. "You're wrong, Liz."

She lets another tear slide down her cheek as she musters all her strength to turn. Her eyes planted firmly on the carpet beneath her feet, she inches closer. Michael is still trying to process all the information he has just received, and doesn't notice her moving. She slides her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. While her other hand slides gently up his face and over his stubble. She stands on her tiptoes and leans into him.

He can feel her chest as it lightly gazes over his wife-beater. She turns her head up and whispers in his ear. "Kiss me."

He doesn't need more of an invitation than that. She closes her eyes, waiting for his lips. He slowly, gently leans his mouth down and presses his lips against hers. At first it is so light he can barely feel her warm lips. But she unclasps his hand and slides it up his chest to the collar of his shirt. She wraps her fingers in the fabric and pulls him tighter against her, urging him on.

Michael gets the message loud and clear. He runs his hand down from the base of her neck to the small of her back and pulls her closer to him. With his other hand, he starts at the side of her face and runs his fingers through her long, silky, brown hair.

She parts her lips and lets out a tiny sigh as he slips his tongue through to taste her. He has thought about doing this for so long, but she is nothing like he imagined she would be. She tastes familiar, like she is the perfect blend of all the flavors he loves mixed perfectly together. He can't seem to get close enough to her though. So while he is kissing her, he uses his body to turn her and press her against the wall. She slides her tongue over her lips and touches his.

That is when the images come. They come out of no where, flying at his mind. They are shots of him in other places. Max and Isabel are there. But it's different. They are royalty. This is his alien life, he lived before; they all have. That realization strikes him, but he can't even take that in because there are so many things in his head. It's like he is reliving someone else's life. He sees the V constellation, and three moons. He sees a man, a women, his parents. He sees Isabel, and watches as she looks longingly at another man. He feels regret, loss, and betrayal. He can see Max struggling to be a good ruler; there is a blond girl at his side. There is fighting in the streets, a war. He is a soldier. He turns to see a man shorter than him standing behind him, hand outstretched. He is weak from all the fighting and can not defend himself. There is a blinding light and immense pain.

He is suddenly aware that he is no longer kissing Liz. He can taste salt in his mouth, it's like all his senses have just woken up. He can feel the texture of the wall under his palms like the uneven stucco were jagged rocks. He can hear the wind blowing through the trees in the park four blocks away. But mostly all he can see or feel is Liz. He feels her heartbeat against his chest, and the way the material of her blouse rubs on his bare skin. He can see thirty different shades of brown in her hair and eyes. It's like he's a whole new person, like she woke something up from inside of him.

Liz lets go of him, and silently stairs up at him. If it were possible to shrink, she would be doing it. She still stands with her head leaning against the wall between his arms. He can't form a sentence; he can barely even comprehend everything that he has seen. He knows she saw it too. No one else had ever gotten him to open up like that, no one had ever gotten flashes from him, but he just knew that she did.

"You see, I told you." she looks up at him, with pain and remorse in her eyes. She didn't want to betray anyone, but she had to show him. She had to make him understand what she was. When Max healed her that day in the Crashdown, she would never be the same. She was permanently linked to the aliens. She acted like water to carry over the energy from their past lives into the present. "This is what I am; this is what he made me."

Michael still could not say a word. He leaned in closer to her, but she slide down the wall and under his arm. He turned to face her, still leaning against the wall to give him support. He wasn't sure that he was capable of standing on his own at that point. "I'm sorry." She whispered hoarsely and turned from him. She glided down the dimly lit hall.

She saw everything he did. But this was something she already knew. All of them had another life, with another destiny. The blond at Max's side when he fell, it was Tess. She didn't need anyone to confirm that for her, she just felt it. He loved her then, and he was drawn to her now. The answer was simple. She had to let him go, to let all of them go.

Michael stood, still not able to move. But now, it was because if he moved, he knew that the tears in his eyes would spill over on to his face. He felt so clearly her heartbreak at recognition of the presence that had no face. Tess, Max's destiny was back to claim him. They had all lived before; they had all been the rulers of another planet. That is what the visions had shown him. But of all the information he had gotten, the only piece that was of any meaning at the present moment was the pain and devastation that Liz was suffering. Even though he wasn't connected to her, for some reason he just knew what she was feeling. This was Max's fault. He brought her into all of this without even considering the consequences. She wasn't an alien like him, but he knew as well as she did, that she was no longer just a normal human anymore either.

She didn't deserve this, to be used, loved and forgotten. To be pushed aside by destiny. It had been so easy to connect with her; it felt so natural to feel her thoughts, to see her soul. He wondered how he ever lived with out it. There was so much he wanted to know. Questions he had for her, Tess, all of them. But at that moment in time; he couldn't not think of Liz. And regret letting her walk out of that hall.

She was the last person in the universe that he would have expected to be kissing in the middle of the night. But she also seemed to be the only person in the world that had the answers he had been looking for his whole life. This small, beautiful, brunette just appeared in his life one day. She had been dying, and Max granted her the gift of a second chance at life, but it came with a price. She was now like a direct conduit to his home planet, to his past. She was his link, and he just let her leave.

Liz broke in to a sprint when she reached the street because she knew if she didn't she would have gone back to him. Run back into his arms and begged for answers she already knew. So instead she fled, ran home to cry into her emotionless journal, and wake to another meaningless day of misery and heartache.

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Holy Crap - they kissed! I love it when they do that. ;)

Reviews, anyone... Bueller...Bueller...


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